


Hydra

by kayura_sanada



Category: Marvel, Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, M/M, but it was in my mind when I wrote it so..., hydra!steve, only slash if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 16:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayura_sanada/pseuds/kayura_sanada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iron Man meets up with Steve as he works with Hydra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hydra

“Steve! This isn't you!” A very familiar voice, and then the repulsor in Iron Man's hand rested on his chest, stopping him on his path. Steve looked into that empty faceplate and smirked.

“As usual, Tony. You're too busy seeing who you want me to be to see who I really am.” He spread his hands and laughed. Tony's hand moved with him, the unshakable armor flexing and moving to keep from restricting him in any way. “It's a shame those people pulled me off of you back then. It would have been a great excuse to kill you.”

Stark recognized what he was talking about, of course, memory or not. The man's research had always been thorough. The suit went very still. And then his 'old friend' spoke. “No,” the fool said. His voice shook slightly, even through the speakers. Unsure, after the past few years. Then firmer. “No.”

Steve leaned in close. “Do it, Tony. Shoot me.” Iron Man hesitated. Stilled, almost as if locked in place. Captain America did not.

He snapped out his hands and crushed down on painted metal. Screeching, as the metal around Tony's arms resisted his strength. He heard Tony shout, and then he opened his own mouth. Tony Stark had always trusted his friends. He'd given to them. Over and over. Money, time, mechanics, materials. His mind. His soul. It was one of his greatest weaknesses, that love of his. How many times had the man found himself broken from his dual desires to do right and to stand by his friends? No matter the fact that Steve had tried to kill him. No matter that Steve always put him to a pedestal and found him short. No matter that, in the past few years, whenever crunch time came, Steve stood on the opposite side, as Tony's enemy.

Despite all of that, Tony still, _still,_ gave Steve the code to his armor.

“Captain 45,” he said, and watched as Tony's armor hissed open. He caught a glimpse of wide blue eyes before he wrapped his hand around a pale neck.

Captain America was known for his shield. He'd marked it the symbol of the country, so bright it shone even with the paint job. He used it in every battle. But the man was a soldier. He knew how to use more than just that shield. And while he may not have been known to use guns, he was known to be a survivalist.

What was a survivalist without a knife?

Tony didn't even look down at it. The man just stared at him, into his face. Those lips split apart. “Steve,” Tony started, and only then began to move – to step away from his busted armor, or to step toward him. It didn't matter.

Steve stabbed straight into Tony Stark's fragile heart.

Blood. Blood, as he wrenched the knife back out, gushing down his hands, onto his uniform, coating the pavement, the dirt, his boots. Iron Man's blood littered the ground until it was a sea of red, the armor standing like red stone. And then Tony Stark fell to the floor at Captain America's feet. Steve stared.

And stared.

And screamed.

 


End file.
